Know the Enemy
by Blood For Blood
Summary: Let me ask you a question... Do you know the enemy? Do you really? Think hard before you answer that. A human survivor, brutally beaten and then taken hostage by bugs... Now, one of them is acting different. And not in a good way, really.
1. Chapter 1

Alex sat at the control panel, and stared down at the syringe filled with a thick red fluid. It was his last stim. And he wasn't sure how long he could go without one, or when he'd find one next. But his left leg was torn up pretty badly. He bandaged it nice and tight, but it would take a few weeks for it to heal. Luckily, he had managed to raid the Medical wing and find some antibiotics and a few rolls of bandages. But he was still running low on stims, and without a few more of those he would be dead in two days. At the most. He was contemplating whether he should use it now, or save it for a later date. But then again, with a limp he was a huge target. The bugs would grab him without a lick of trouble.

"Fuck… my training didn't cover this." Alex murmured, biting the cap off of the stim. He rolled up his pants leg, and stabbed the tip of the needle into his calf. He instantly felt the drug take effect. His leg was numbed, and his heartbeat jumped up. He stood up, and wobbled slightly. He could walk again. But he still had a hell of a limp.

Alexander Fitzgerald signed up for the Marines at the age of eighteen. He wanted to do something that mattered and get paid while doing it. So, he took up the military life. During his time in high school, he volunteered at a lab that studied Xenomorph carcasses, and even took four years of Xenomorph studies. He learned quite a bit about the Xenomorph's body, their mindset, and a few rejected theories.

Alex was a somewhat tall man, standing just a few inches above fellow recruits. His light brown hair was always shaved off, and he even had a scar the barber at the recruiting station gave him. He wore a dull white sleeveless undershirt underneath his ballistic vest to prevent chaffing without restricting his movement or making him overheat. He also wore black military grade trousers, with heavy combat boots. The left leg of his trousers was stained with crimson, however it was dried and barely a bother anymore. He was used to living in terrible conditions.

Alex locked himself in the Captains Quarters, sealed and locked the doors, and closed off the vents so the damn bugs wouldn't pop out of the ceiling while he was sleeping. But he'd run out of food a week ago, and his last sip of water took place four days ago. Through sheer willpower, he was keeping himself alive. Running water was shut down, but electricity was back online. But what good was light if Alex was unconscious from dehydration.

"Damnit… I need water… food…" Alex murmured as he drew to his feet. The stim he took earlier would hopefully keep him awake until he found some water. Dehydration was setting in, and if he didn't hurry, he'd end up face first on the floor. For good.

Alex took his service pistol, and checked the magazine. It was full. The one thing that he wasn't running short on was ammo. He could defend himself, if he had enough strength to hold the damn gun up into the air. He unlocked the doors, and peered into the hallways. It was empty. And the air didn't stink of rotten flesh and piss. That meant there were no bugs out right now. For some reason, they always smelt like asparagus. Alex could get over the smell of dead flesh, but not piss. Why would they smell like piss in the first place? It seemed likely that they were splashing around in the sewers.

Alex moved slowly out into the hallways. Partly because of safety and sound reasons, partly because of dehydration, and partly because of his limp. But he moved at an acceptable pace. He scoured at least two rooms before he found the mess hall. He slowly pushed the double doors open, and peered inside. It was empty. Alex limped into the kitchen, and tore it apart. He found two bottles of water, and a few sealed MRE's. Just when he was about to down one of the bottles of water, the very familiar scent assailed his nostrils. Then he heard a bug's signature screech; loud and high-pitched. Before he knew it, there were three Xenomorphs surrounding him.

"Good girls…" Alex said lowly, limping himself into a corner. He was about to reach for his pistol—which was located in its holster—when one of them moved closer. He snatched his pistol, and raised it. But then his shoulder-lamp went out. He lost sight of all three targets. Alex switched the safety to "burst", and pulled the trigger three times. At least one of the nine shots must've hit something. But his foes were upon him already. He was beaten ferociously, forced to the ground, and bitten. And he felt a burning sensation on his arm. It was a familiar feeling. Molecular acid, Xeno's blood. But it wasn't enough to cause severe damage; it did burn like hell however. There was slight bloodshed, but the acid soon dissolved away. There was a bright red splotch with multiple lacerations left on his shoulder and upper arm.

By the time the three Xenos had finished mauling Alex, he was covered in bruises, lacerations, red marks from their clamp-like grips, and bite-marks. But he was still alive. He didn't expect them to keep him alive. But that only meant one thing. He was going to be cocooned. That's what they thought, Alex had told himself. He wasn't going down. And if he was, he was going to bite, kick, and scream his way to hell. And bring as many of them with him as possible.

Alex brought his head up, and groaned. Blood ran over his lip, he had a nosebleed, and a large purple bruise covered his left cheek. But then he spotted his pistol. That was his salvation. His one way out of hell. He fell over trying to grab the weapon, and soon became alive again. He crawled closer to the pistol. It was right under his hand when one of the Xenomorphs grabbed his leg and dragged him away. He didn't have enough strength to even struggle. He just covered his head and took the punishment like a man. Until he noticed that there were no scratching, no kicking, no biting. It seemed as though they were simply trying to relocate him. Though he knew better. They were moving him to a more convenient location for a cocoon.

"God…" Alex murmured, beginning to struggle. "You can't take me bitch! I'd sooner die…" Alex screamed as he began to kick at the alien form that had a hold of him. But his fight was short lived. Dehydration soon took him, and he blacked out.

By the time Alex came to, his head was throbbing and his chest stung. He was restrained, and the room was dark. But he could make out four different figures in the room with him. All of which were the dark, sleek form of a Xenomorph. They seemed to be communicating to each other, hissing, shrieking, even what sounded like scratching. After a moment, all of them seemed to stare at him. He tried to pull out of his bonds, but he was bound pretty damn well. After a closer examination, he concluded that he was cocooned. But there were none of those disgusting "face-humper" things on the floor. Not even any eggs. There wasn't a single trace of any foul play, beside the fact that he was bound to a wall, of course.

"What the fuck do you want with me?" Alex cried out, pulling away from the wall.

But that didn't deter his captors. It seemed to provoke them. But that assault, that surprise attack… hell, if Alex was watching that from a security camera, he might've even considered it to be a sexual assault, or a rape or something similar. But they caught him off guard. They caught him weak… they basically caught him with his pants down. One of them moved closer. She seemed to be curious, maybe even slightly stimulated by Alex's emotions. Alex, even though he truly did despise the Xenomorphs for what they did, he found himself interested in them nonetheless, until it got to the point where they bound him to a wall. Still, due to his multiple years spent studying the species, he always referred to a Xenomorph specifically as "she" out of habit. He did know of a few rare cases where there was a male Xenomorph, but only during circumstances such as a Hunter—a very elusive species of predator—being implanted with a Xeno embryo. Usually, the resulting Xenomorph would take on the same gender of its host.

The Xenomorph moved even closer, so close to the point that Alex swore he could actually _taste_ the stench of the beast. It was a sour, disgusting taste. Alex gagged heavily, but regained his composure after a moment. The Xenomorph paced back and forth before Alex, examining him. While it walked, Alex noticed a large _8_ that was carved into the Xenomorph's head. It was perfectly carved, as though it were branded. Alex remembered that one. He had to help restrain it once, when the scientists brought it in from an expedition out onto T96's brutal jungle terrain. She seemed really pissed off when they first met.

But now the tables were turned. Alex was restrained, and Eight was the one with the power. And she seemed to remember Alex as well. Something told Alex that this was going to end badly for him. But, he just had to go with whatever these things had in mind with him, and pray that he came out of it alive.

"Oh… it's _you_ again…" Alex murmured, dropping his head

Eight turned to her sisters, and the four communicated for a moment. Alex couldn't even get how they understood each other. All he heard was garbled hissing, growling, and a bit of saliva dripping to the floor. The four quickly moved into a large semicircle around Alex, and they all grabbed his shoulders and his arms. They pulled him out of the disgustingly wet web-like material, and forced him to the ground. But it wasn't like he was in any physical condition to fight back. He just fell to the floor, limp and barely conscious.

The four worked together, in seemingly perfect unison. Two of them grasped Alex's arms and legs, and held him down. The other two took hold of his ballistic vest, and quickly tore it off. The metal buckles and Velcro straps were completely useless against the almost superhuman strength of a single Xeno, let alone two of them.

Then it became clear to Alex. They were stripping him down. But for what? So they could just hack him open, right down the middle? Or maybe they took comfort in the fact that his vest would no longer get in the way of beating him if they needed to. Either way, Alex was bare and naked, as far as he was concerned. He never went anywhere without his vest on. It seems a bit paranoid, but there are quite a few people who are angry at the Earth's government, and by extension, its military, for experimentation done on animals and even people. He'd rather wear his vest just in case some nut decided to open fire on a few off-duty Marines. And, it gave him more of a status than his wife-beater undershirt. He never even liked the name, it just sounded stupid.

The four Xenos, headed by Eight, then worked together to drag Alex out of the room, and down the hall. They were much less aggressive then when he first contacted them, though Alex couldn't really tell. He was starting to black out again. He still hadn't had any water for three or four days. The damn bugs made sure of that. Alex could barely hold his head up to stare at his four captors while they dragged him down multiple corridors, and through numerous rooms. Unfortunately, Alex didn't last for five more minutes before he blacked out again.

When Alex awoke, he was lying in a puddle of a room-temperature liquid. And even more was being dumped onto him. But he wasn't concerned with anything else. He wiped some of the liquid off onto his hand, and rubbed it between two of his fingers. It was runny. Alex licked one of his fingers, and his eyes—originally filled with despair—filled with hope again. He shot up to a sitting position, and looked around quickly. The same four Xenos sat around him.

One of them was staring down at him with her mouth open. And water was dripping from her inner jaws. Alex wiped his face off and gagged.

"That's fucking disgusting! Are you trying to make me sick?" Alex screamed, flicking the water off of his hands.

Just as Alex had expected, the Xenomorph had no clue what he meant. They had no perception of emotion, so it seemed. Purely instinct and maybe curiosity. But hell, at least Alex wasn't restrained in alien vomit anymore. Though the stench seemed to stick with him, he'd rather smell like death than actually be dead.

Alex stumbled over his own feet, and fell to the floor. Then he noticed what appeared to a large, clear plastic cup filled with water. Alex scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the cup. He quickly downed the entire thing, holding it above his head to get every last drop of the sweet life water, literally. He set the cup down, and collapsed. But after a few moments, Eight stepped towards Alex. He sat back up, and crawled back slightly. Eight sat down, and tilted her head downward. Then she began to heave violently. After a moment, her mouth opened and her inner jaws emerged. She spat up quite a bit of water, enough to fill the glass nearly to the brim. Of course, there was a bit of spillage, and the water had a few unknown particles floating around in it. But still, Eight stepped back slightly and watched with her head tilted.

The very thought of drinking what a bug had just coughed up filled Alex with disgust and dismay. But he wasn't about to pass up one of the few things that kept him alive in this nightmare. Even if it did come from the enemy's stomach. It seemed relatively obvious that if they wanted him dead or as a host, they would've disposed of him by now. But he still wasn't sure of exactly what they wanted with him. Hell, maybe he was just a form of entertainment to them. He couldn't really ask, with the bugs not being sentient and all. Or so the studies seemed to prove.

Alex, still slightly hesitant, reached for the glass. His throat was dry still, and his body's needs overpowered his mind's complaints. He put his lips to the brim of the cup, and tilted it. Again, he quickly emptied the cup's contents, and dropped the cup. But after a moment, Alex began to convulse violently. After what seemed like an eternity to him, he hacked up what appeared to be mucus. He spat it on the floor, and licked the back of his hand to get rid of the taste of bug spit.

By the time Alex was done having a fit of coughing and gagging, Eight had moved closer to him. Alex, who was still out of it for the most part, didn't notice until she was right on top of him, literally. Eight wrapped her tail around Alex's injured arm, and pulled tightly. Alex involuntarily outstretched his arm, wincing as the rash that began to form was irritated. Eight examined Alex's shoulder, and hissed lowly. She opened her mouth, and a small amount of her saliva dripped onto Alex's shoulder. At that point, Eight released Alex's arm and stepped back.

As soon as the thick, clear goo fell from Eight's mouth and onto his arm, Alex felt an intense burning sensation. He would've tried to wipe it off, but he's sure that he would've just smeared it into his cuts. So he grasped directly below his acid-burns, and squeezed as tightly as he could while groaning in agony. After at least two minutes of it, the burning began to fade. And surprisingly, the rash started to disappear. Alex's arm soon started to regain its original color; what would be expected of a Caucasian male who hasn't washed in weeks, and is covered in bruises, cuts, and blood. And half of the blood isn't even his.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Alex screamed as the pain in his armed was quelled. "I wish I could express how much that hurt!"

Eight tilted her head in confusion, and moved closer to Alex. Alex was immobilized by lasting pain, and didn't even pay attention to Eight. By now, he was sure that he was just a plaything for her and her "friends". Eight moved around behind Alex, and propped herself up on her hinds legs. Her foreclaws were occupied with Alex's dog tag, which she was trying to undo. It seemed to put her into a trance; shiny metallic objects that produced a fascinating sound when moved. That's what Eight saw in them. All Alex and his human brethren saw was a pair of metal tags that were wrapped around your neck so your teammates could pretend to mourn your death when they found your carcass on the field.

After a few minutes of Eight nearly strangling Alex with his own tag, Alex reached up behind his neck to help her. He undid his tag, and the pair slid off Alex's neck. He then dropped the tag onto the floor, and waited. A few moments later, Eight moved from behind him, and she quickly snatched up the chain and tag combo. She moved the chain about for a moment, before she dropped the chain again.

Eight left the chain alone, and returned to Alex. She set her head on his shoulder, and hissed quietly. The three remaining Xenomorphs retreated from the room. Alex noted this, and shook his head.

"What? What's going on? Something's going down…" Alex murmured softly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to assist in purging his body of the pain.

Eight replied with a light, almost purring sound. She wrapped her tail around Alex's waist, and her arm around his neck, while nudging into his shoulder.

"_I'm fucked…_" Alex thought to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Eight lifted her head, and peered around the room. It was empty still. But this place wasn't good enough. She needed a more secure place to store her "trophy". Eight stood up, and began to move towards the door. When Alex hesitated, Eight hissed at him. Alex, not wanting to piss her off even more since he was unarmored, stood up slowly and followed. Eight moved quickly down multiple corridors, and found a somewhat large room; the General's old quarters to be exact. And it seemed to be one of the few places that had everything a human needed. An oven, a large kitchen area with a sink and cupboard, a refrigerator, a bathroom, etc… It would suit Alex well. Even he thought so. He had never even dreamed of living in the General's quarters, but now that everyone was dead… he just got a promotion.

Alex, currently ignoring Eight seeing as she wasn't a threat anymore, moved towards the kitchen area. His first instinct was to go towards the refrigerator, seeing as he was literally starving, but he had a hunch. He moved towards the kitchen sink, and turned the knob on the left of the faucet. After a moment of sputtering, water shot out of the faucet. Alex broke out laughing in joy. Of course, the General had water in emergency situations, while he was stuck scrounging from the damn mess hall. Alex cupped his hand under the stream of water, and took a few sips. He turned the knob back, and moved to the refrigerator. He after rummaging through the random objects inside for a moment, he found a large ration bar. For some reason, he liked them. Other soldiers complained that the bars were too hard to bite off, but Alex preferred it that way. Then you'd never bite off more than you can chew, and you'd never choke. At least in theory.

Alex grabbed the ration bar, and bit off the corner of the sealed tin-foiled package. He pealed the packaging away, revealing six large, graham-cracker like bars. Two bars per day, or so the command said. But Alex might've eaten all of them if he could've. Meanwhile, Eight was investigating the room. She had checked the bathroom, the closets, and even the ventilation system. There was absolutely nothing there that didn't belong in a human room. A few moments later, Eight lifted her head, as if she had heard something. Alex had just finished his second ration bar when he noticed Eight do this. Eight took off running down the hall, not to be seen for a prolonged amount of time.

Alex finished his third ration bar, and threw the rest back into the refrigerator. He washed it all down with two glasses of water, and then scavenged the area. He searched al the drawers, the cabinets, and the medicine cabinet as well. He found a med-kit, with two Stims, and three rolls of bandages. He also found toothpaste, a toothbrush, aspirin, and a few extra Stims in the medicine cabinet. Of course, the Stims were the only thing of use. First of all, Alex didn't have heart problems, and second, dental hygiene was at the bottom of his list right now. He could use a shower though… Maybe he could wash off the smell of death and blood.

Alex found the relatively large bed that the General used, and lifted the covers. There was nothing in the bed, which was good. Alex could use some sleep in an actual bed, not just a sleeping bag on the floor. Alex hopped into the bed, and quickly fell into what was originally a deep, restful sleep. Out of habit however, Alex locked the door and sealed off as many vents as he could. But two remained open, because they were the emergency vents. But they led to what was supposedly an impenetrable outdoors area. But still, Alex felt relatively secure for the moment. Secure enough to actually fall asleep instead of pass out from exhaustion.

Later in the night, Alex found himself awake, and alone. He needed time to contemplate the past few days. His squad was killed, along with every other inhabitant of the colony. His leg was injured by the bugs, and then he was beaten by them. Then they took him hostage, and now he was sitting in the officer's quarters, alone and bored to tears. It wasn't an average week honestly. The first thing Alex was going to do when he gets back to Earth would be visiting his best friend. Lucky him, he signed up for the army and was stationed in New York. Then, he was going to look up his ex. And he was going to leave a very inappropriate message on her doorstep. It would describe in vivid detail about the relationship Alex had with her sister after they broke up. That would piss them both off. They both pissed him off anyway, so it was more or less payback. But of course, he had to survive his "intimate" encounter with alien life-forms first.

Alex was up until early in the morning. Around 3 A.M. to be exact. After that, he collapsed back onto the bed from pure exhaustion. He had a restful sleep, no nightmares… at least none that Alex could remember. That's what he always found odd. He had three types of dreams; violent or disturbing nightmares… they never bothered him though. He was mute to it, being a soldier and all. He had vividly bright "fantasy" dreams, involving impossible things like flying and falling hundreds of feet and surviving. And there was the occasional sexually oriented dream. But usually, he didn't dream at all.

Alex woke up slowly, and was reluctant to get out of the bed. Its soft warmness welcomed him almost better than his own mother did. Until he heard a familiar sound. Bugs; up in the vents. By the sound of it, there was only one. But still. Alex scrambled to his feet, and scanned for his pistol. Then he remembered. Everyone was dead… his pistol was gone… And a bug decided to make him her very own trophy. Alex knew more about your average Xenomorph than half of the population back on Earth. But he still had no clue about how an individual Xeno thought.

Alex simply crawled backwards, and pushed himself against the headboard. He curled up into a ball, and gazed around the room to find the vent opening the bug was coming out of. Then, it happened. The cover to one of the vents flew off its hinges and slammed into the floor. It rattled as it hit the floor, and a Xenomorph tail dangled out. A few moments later, the entire creature emerged. Alex couldn't tell if it was a hostile, or just Eight again, trying to harass him. As the Xeno gazed around the room, Alex couldn't see the "8" brand, so he assumed hostile. He reached under the pillow he sat upon, and snatched his combat knife. It was his one final defense, besides curling up into a ball and crying for mercy. But Alex didn't do that, he had far too much pride. The Xenomorph took notice to Alex, and began to move towards the bed. Alex clenched his blade tighter, and prepared to swing. But then he heard another bug up in the vents. She emerged a few moments later, and looked around. The two Xenomorphs stared at each other, and they both hissed. That's when Alex could make out the 8 brand on the newly entered Xeno. After a moment, the smaller Xeno backed away from Eight and Alex, and fled the room. Eight leapt onto the bed, and moved towards Alex. Alex reached out and placed the knife on the nightstand. Eight reached out with her tail, and wrapped it around Alex's right arm. She pulled Alex's arm out tightly, making him wince in pain. The acid-burn was still relatively sensitive.

Eight seemed to retreat slightly when Alex winced. She pulled Alex's arm out again, but she was gentler this time. She examined his arm, and made a light hissing sound. She ran her clawed fingers lightly up Alex's arm, and to his neck. Her claw dug into Alex's neck, and nearly drew blood. As soon as Alex cringed and murmured about "too much pressure" Eight simply removed all of her appendages from Alex. She even moved back slightly. Alex, curious and surprised by Eight's actions, took a deep breath and prayed for the best. Alex slowly raised his arm, and opened his hand. Eight withdrew for a moment, before she slowly moved closer to Alex. In all honesty, Alex was half expecting Eight to bite his hand off right there. But no, she moved slowly, and after a moment, she crawled right up next to Alex, and stuffed her head under Alex's arm. She moved her head back and forth, and eventually curled into a ball, resting her head on Alex's lap. Alex shook his head, and pondered for a moment.

"Please tell me that I was hit in the head when we evacuated the colony, and I've been having a mildly disturbing coma-dream ever since…" Alex murmured to himself, removing his hand from Eight's head.

Eight perked her head up, and rubbed against Alex. She almost seemed to purr, and her tail flicked around behind Alex, and eventually settled, being wrapped around Alex's waist. Alex shook his head again, and in his mind, he slapped himself straight across the face. How could he have let something like this happen? He just had to play hero, didn't he? To think, he'd be back on Earth right now if he had only followed the sergeant's orders, and went straight to the drop ship. But nope… he had to take a piss, and that's what got him stuck on this rock.

Eight purred again, and pushed her head deeper into Alex's stomach. Alex had to exhale to make room for her head. Eight raised her head, and moved her arms onto Alex's lap. She set her head down on her arms, and became still. Alex sighed to himself, and thought about how the hell he was supposed to get out of this one. Sure, he'd gotten out of a few sticky situations before, but never this big. Yeah, girls have threatened to have their brother or fathers kill him, but they never followed through. But Eight… she could kill him. And Alex would be damned if every other bug on this rock couldn't kill him too. So, running seemed like it was out of the option. So, if Eight wanted a head rest, by god Alex would make the best dam headrest he could. If she wanted for him to just hold still and shut up, then he would. Basically, Alex would have to comply with everything she wanted, or risk being torn apart by an angry bug.

Alex, who couldn't move whatsoever, eventually just pulled he covers up around himself, and Eight by default, and went back to sleep. After all, none of the bugs would risk attacking their own, right? Right?

After almost another hour and a half of sweet, blissful sleep, Alex was rudely awoken. Eight was shaking him somewhat violently. Like she was trying to get his attention. Or maybe she was just sadistic. Either way, Alex woke up quickly and without question. Because again, if Eight wanted him up, he'd get up. Alex sat up, and looked around. The room was relatively empty, besides Eight, at least. Eight was standing above Alex, with what almost appeared to be a smile. She plunged her muzzle into Alex's stomach.

"I'm up, I'm up… Geez, you're almost as bad as my ex…" Alex murmured.

Eight hissed as Alex, and bared her teeth. Alex crawled backwards, and pushed his back against the headboard. He was ready to make a move. If he needed to, he could reach for his knife, or he could dart for the exit. Either way, he could try to save himself if he needed to. But he had hoped he wouldn't need to actually stab a bug. Since they bleed acid, stabbing them is a bad idea.

Eight tilted her head, and leapt at Alex. Before he could reach for his knife or dodge, Eight had him pinned down. And of course, it was useless to fight now. She might as well of had him bound and gagged, because she was far too strong for Alex to handle. And he had to drag a two-hundred pound bomb to a large metal door on his own once. However, instead of stabbing him, cutting him, or otherwise causing physical harm, Eight simply dropped herself onto Alex, and wrapped her arms and tail around his waist. That left Alex confused and uncomfortable. In every situation, that's a bad position to be in with a deadly bug that can kill you before it's born. Alex, still confused, simply raised his hands and didn't voluntarily touch Eight just in case she didn't want to be touched. All he did was try not to move too much so Eight didn't go psycho on him.


End file.
